Touch, Peel and Stand
by weekendoffender
Summary: Curtis just wanted Nathan to be quiet.


**Summary:** Curtis just really wants to shut Nathan up.  
**Disclaimer:** Misfits is owned by E4. I make no claims of ownership over any character or TV show mentioned in the following work of fiction.  
**Notes:** Spoiler free! This story isn't set during any particular episode.

He's got the boy up against the lockers, forearm keeping him pinned down while he does the only thing he can to shut up that irritating, god awful voice that keeps ringing in his ears. Violence wasn't the answer, Curtis realized earlier in the day. No. He'd gotten Nathan across the cheek; a fist that he was sure would shut the boy up but not hurt much. But what he'd gotten was the opposite reaction.

By the end of the day Curtis was convinced his head was going to implode. Or explode, he wasn't quite sure. So no, violence wasn't the answer. But when Alisha had strutted out of the locker room only 10 minutes ago, throwing a suggestive look over her shoulder, Curtis knew. He'd given her his best apologetic frown, mouthed "later" and waited until the room was empty. Well almost empty, Nathan was still spouting some rubbish or another about the weird kid. But not for long, he knew now how to stop that mouth from speaking.

Which is why he's not got Nathan pinned to the lockers, his tongue sweeping along smooth white teeth and his hand shoved securely inside a pair of jeans which are not his.

His plan has worked beautifully, he thinks to himself as Nathan squirms under him and fuck if he doesn't miss the feeling of skin on skin. Misses it like running. Misses it more than running, misses it like water, air and fuck if he doesn't feel like crying right now. So instead he flicks his wrist on the upstroke, grabs a handful of curly hair and latches onto the soft smooth skin of Nathan's neck.

The moan that erupts from the skinny boy's throat, he decides, is the only thing he ever wants to hear from Nathan's mouth again. Curtis moves his hand from the boy's hair and shoves his jeans down, kicks his legs wider and readjusts his hand, getting a good tight grip on the thrusting cock in his palm and pulls sharply upward. A near-scream reverberates around the room and Nathan's hands fly up to grip at Curtis's back, his fingers pulling and scratching at dark skin and Curtis can't help it, he groans at the touch as his jeans become so tight they're painful.

Nathan's writhing against the lockers, hips thrusting in time with rough strokes and he begins moaning Curtis's name over and over. Moaning into any part of dark salty skin he can get at. His tongue lapping at Curtis's shoulder, jaw, chest and finally mouth. "Curtis Curtis Curtis" over and over until Curtis feels hot liquid on his stomach.

He holds Nathan up for a minute or two, drawing the boy in for a slow, relaxing kiss and once again thinks that plan worked beautifully. If he had to live with Nathan moaning his name and only his name every time they were near it would be a good life. A calm and relaxing life where he could get his work done in peace and not leave community service every day with a pounding headache that not even the sight of Alisha two fingers deep in herself could relieve.

And that's the last thought he'll have about the girl, he thinks, as Nathan abruptly slips from his grip and lands on his knees. Long skinny fingers begin working at his jeans and Curtis thinks not only is this a most beautiful plan, but the greatest idea he's ever had as a tongue begins to lap eagerly at the drying cum on his stomach.

He threads his fingers through curly brown hair and lets out a long, low moan as his dick is freed from his pants, the head brushing against soft skin. He looks down to see Nathan licking up the last spot of pearl on his stomach and suddenly he's engulfed by a hot, wet mouth. On reflex his hips shift forward violently, the boy gags loudly and he thinks he should apologise. Tries to say 'sorry' but the only thing that comes out is Nathan's name half moaned, half screamed as the boy sucks hard, trying to take both balls into his mouth. Screw the apology, Curtis thinks.

Soon Nathan is sucking on his cock hard and fast, loud slurps and grunts running through Curtis's head and he can't think of a time when he's found a head job so sexy. The boy below him is panting through his nose, tears slowly creeping down his cheeks and fuck if any chick has ever looked this amazing on the end of his dick. Felt this amazing and worked this damn hard. His cock keeps brushing against the back of Nathan's throat, causing louder grunts and more tears but the boy just won't quit and Curtis doesn't want him too. Wants him on his knees for the rest of his life, sucking like he has to prove something.

Prove what, he doesn't know but he'll find out. Just not at the moment because right now he's gripping Nathan's hair and coming down his throat. Coming harder then he ever has from a blow job and holding the curly hair in place, making the boy swallow it all. Much to his amazement though, Nathan doesn't resist. Just swallows over and over, cum leaking out of the corners of his mouth and hands pressed hard against the cold locker.

Curtis lets his hands fall from the dark hair, guesses he better let the boy breathe. Nathan looks up at him, eyes red rimmed and glossy, hair everywhere and lips sticky and swollen. The cum dripping down his chin is what undoes Curtis though and his knees buckle as he slides down and ends up in a heap with his legs surrounding the slender boy.

That fucking cum, he thinks. It's slowly making its way down Nathan's jaw and he can't handle it anymore. The boy is looking at him expectantly, scared puffy eyes and thick liquid on his face and Curtis snaps. He lunges forward, tongue lapping up his own cum while his hands grip the boys face. He kisses him long and slow. He doesn't know when he'll get to do this again, be this close to a person while Alisha is… well Alisha and the thought terrifies him. So he kisses. He kisses and touches every inch of skin he can reach and Nathan lets him.

An hour later when they're lying on the cold hard concrete of the locker room floor, his phone rings - flashing Alisha's name – and Nathan speaks for the first time in what seems like years. So they clean themselves up, put away their gear and go their separate ways.

And the next day everything is normal again. Nathan's voice drills into his ears, his head starts to pound and Alisha is staring at him like she wants to eat him. He 'fucks' her after before lunch, hand gripping tight as Alisha pushes three fingers in and shudders through her release. Nathan's voice rings out from somewhere and he's coming, spurting over his stomach and thighs and he refuses to think about it. He can think about it later tonight, when he's alone and his bedroom is quiet.

It's after lunch and he's been sent to clean up some graffiti on the west side of the building where he finds Nathan. The boy's bent over, tying his shoe and Curtis sighs heavily. He just wanted a quiet afternoon. That's fucking all, god damn it! But the boy stays quiet and no words ever come. Not then and not for the next two hours they spend together. And the next day when they walk to the corner shop, nothing. And Thursday when they're both early to the community centre. And Curtis can't help but thank every god, goddess, saint and angel out there for granting his wish for a bit of peace and quiet around the boy.

But when Friday comes he's sick of the quiet. He misses skin, misses lips and moans and when Alisha has her fill of him he runs off to Nathan. He finds him sitting on a lunch table with Simon. He's retelling some absurd story while the weird kid looks bored, nodding in the appropriate places while he pretends to listen. Then like that the boy is quiet, his eyes on Curtis and Curtis truly thinks maybe he picked up two powers in the storm because good god he loves how much control he has over Nathan.

Simon takes this as a cue to leave and Curtis can tell by the small smile that he's being thanked for relieving the poor boy, thinks that maybe the weird kid isn't as different as he thought. But that's it for thoughts of Simon because then he pulls Nathan off the table, manhandles the boy into the bathrooms and pushes him against the door. He's begging for touch, begging for those moans with his hands and mouth and soon the boy gives him what he wants.

The next half an hour - and nearly every evening after - is filled with touches, kisses and moans. Fingers digging and scratching his back, teeth on his throat and moans in his ear. Sometimes he gets his dick sucked, sometimes he gives a hand job but he always gets to feel skin on skin. But the only thing he ever hears from Nathan's mouth when they're alone is his name and Curtis is happy.

And he still thinks his plan worked beautifully.

/lj-cut


End file.
